Crimson Scars
by We.Fear.Not.Death
Summary: Pickles looks back into the memories of his adolescence. More chapters coming soon! Rating will change from T to M in the future.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm just really fucking depressed right now. I needed to write this. I'm sorry. I know it's not a very depressing story right now, but it'll get there. I'm only posting chapter one for now, just to see how you all like it. **

_"'Git outta my seat." The much older man stood in the aisle of the bus, trying to keep his balance as he took a sip from his bottle of beer. "I always sit 'dere, kid." The young redhead sighed as he looked up at the ugly, drunken man. _

_ "Dood, I'm goin' t'rough a 'laht right now, can't I jus' sit here wit'out bein' hassled by some old man?"The man gained an angry expression, nothing the young man wasn't famliar with. _

_ "I ain't gonna let some... some __**kid**__tell me what 'ta do! Now 'git outta my seat!" He looked like he was on the verge of freaking out. The teen didn't mind. Not one bit. _

_ "Look, dood. I jus' got kicked outta my house. Not that it matters anyways, but I don't got no where to go. Let me 'feckin sit here, an' we won't have any problems. Got it?" The redhead tried to act tough, but it only made the drunk even madder than before. _

_ "What 'da feck is some __**faggot kid**__ gonna do to me? Fondle me 'ta death?" The older man laughed, losing his balance and staggering a bit in the process. The younger man's face was turning red in anger. He stood up, being much shorter than the other man, and growled at the drunk._

_ "I ain't no faggot. I'm gonna be a __**rock star**__. I'll be more famous 'dan you'll __**ever be**__." Just like that, he pushed him out of the way and walked down to the front of the bus, his small suitcase in hand. _

"I dunno where I messed up," Pickles took a sip from his beer. He'd been nursing the same bottle all night, which wasn't like him. By now, he should of been chugging his twelfth round. Not tonight. He'd been thinking about his life tonight, which also wasn't like him. He wasn't talking to anyone in particular, besides himself, and maybe the bartender, if he was even listening. "Dood, I..." He took off one of his wrist bands, exposing his crimson scars. He stared at them, smirking. It wasn't a happy smirk, it was a smirk of disappointment. Pickles had a certain way of displaying his emotions... They was easy to decipher, but they were so much different than anyone else's. He sniffled a bit, taking a small sip from his beverage. "I 'jest don't know what I did wrong."

_He did it. He finally reached his destination- Hollywood, California. It'd been a long ride, taking buses and hitch-hiking all the way from Wisconsin, and all, but he was finally here, and that's all he cared about. The first step to becoming a rock star, he decided, was buying and learning an instument. He only had 40 bucks on him, so he decided to check out this little pawn shop that wasn't too far from the bus stop he'd been dropped off at. _

_ "Hey, fella. Can I help you?" He was greeted by the large man sitting behind the counter when he walked in. _

_ "Uh, 'yeuh." He kind of looked down, not knowing how to explain himself. "I... I 'wanna guitar." The man laughed, pointing to the large array of guitars hanging on the wall behind him. He looked at them all- there must've been at least 50 guitars to choose from. Then, he seen it. The __**one**__. A Gibson Les Paul. "I want that one." _

_ "Nice choice. 'Whadaya plan to do with it?" The man asked as he payed the bill._

_ "I'm gonna be a rock star! I'll be 'da best 'dere ever was!" He told the man enthusiastically, who just laughed. _

_ "Good luck with that! You know how many kids wanna be musicians 'nowadays? But I still wish you luck." The man handed him the Les Paul with a smile on his face. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and walked out of the shop, but the man stopped him. "Hey, kid, I didn't catch your name." He looked at the man and smirked. _

_ "Pickles."_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Vinny is an OC. Crash Warning isn't real, it's an Original Band, OB, heheh. I'm not entirely sure if Pickles taught himself the guitar or if he was taught, but for the sake of this story, please pretend that he was taught by this dude Vinny. **

The redheaded drummer almost forgot about his scars, but a bad trip on some LSD helped him remember the awful times of his adolesence. Sure, he was a big rock n' roll star, just like he wanted, but it wasn't as great as he thought it would be. "My... My 'feckin hair..." He felt his dreads and grabbed onto one, gently pulling on it.

xYx

_"Heh. How do 'ya like it?" He asked his guitar-teacher-turned-friend, Vinny._

_ "Eh, it's alright, I guess." Pickles had just recently bought a big can of hairspray, and was trying out the 'glam' look. Even though his hair was still kind of short, the style would quickly live up to it's name sooner or later. _

_ "Alright? 'Dat's it? I t'ink it's __**so**__ cool." He smiled at him through the mirror. Vinny was older than Pickles, being 25. He met the redhead in a bar somewhere, and noticed he was struggling with his guitar. _

_ "Hey, kid. I noticed you're, uh, havin' some trouble, there." He noticed._

_ "N-No! No way. I'm fine!" Pickles whined, but Vinny gave him a stern look. "'Yeuh, I'm havin' trouble." The older man sat next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. _

_ "'Ya know, I could teach you." Pickles looked up from the fret board. He was genuinley interested._

_ "Really? I don't 'gotta pay or nothin'?" Vinny chuckled at the naive kid. _

_ "Nope! Nothin'. Do you have a place to stay?" Pickles shook his head. "I didn't think so, you look kinda shaggy, like a stray dog." Pickles' face was turning red in anger, and he stood up._

_ "Who're __**you**__ callin' shaggy?! I ain't no __**stray**__!" He growled, only making Vinny laugh._

_ "You don't got a place to go right?"_

_ "Right."_

_ "Stray's don't either." Pickles realized his logic and apologized for getting mad, sitting back down._

_ "Listen, uh, I would __**love**__ a place to live, and all, but how do I know 'dat I can trust you?" Vinny smiled and looked down. _

_ "I'm Vinny Donahopalis. I'm pretty sure you can trust me." Pickles' eyes widened in realization._

_ "Wait... Hold on. __**The**__ Vinny Donahopalis? 'Da lead guitarist of Crash Warning?" Vinny raised up his arms casually._

_ "The flesh and blood." Pickles couldn't believe it. The lead guitarist for one of his favorite bands offered to teach him guitar and a place to live. Vinny had to chuckle at the teen's expression; His jaw hung open, and his eyes were wide, fully exposing the light green that colored them. "We should get 'outta here. This place closes soon." He gestured him to grab his stuff and they made their way to Vinny's apartment. _

"'Feckin'... Vinny." The drummer smiled as he took a small sip from his bottle, remembering his pal from back in the day. Well, he _was_ his pal, until he brought home that guy... That guy that changed his life forever.

_Pickles found a poster hanging up on a telephone pole that read "In Search Of Band Members. Please Call If Interested.". He was definetley interested. He knew enough about guitar by now to attempt being part of a small band that would probably end up nowhere. He was prepared for this, so he ripped off one of the tabs with the phone number and ran to a phone booth. He stuck a quarter into the machine and listened as the tones rang through his head. Finally, someone answered. _

_ "Hm? Yeah, what's up?" The guy sounded like he just woke up. _

_ "'Yeuh, I'm callin' aboot, uh, 'da band?" The guy on the other end groaned. _

_ "What? Fuckin' Snakes n' Barrels? That piece of shit? Yeah, you can join, I guess. Do 'ya play an instument?" Pickles smiled as he stuck another quater into the machine. Had he found his muse? His destiny?_

_ "Well, I play 'da guitar, and a bit o' 'da drums. Oh, I sing, too!" He heard the man cough on the other line before he answered._

_ "We don't need a drummer. We __**do**__ need a singer. We could use another guitarist, too." _

_ "So I can join?" _

_ "Heh. Don't get your hopes up. Can I call you back?" Pickles furrowed his brow, remembering that he was calling from a public phone. _

_ "How aboot I meet you in 'da park sometime tonight."_

_ "Ok. 9:30. Bring your guitar and your talent, and we'll get to work." He hung up first, leaving the teenaged redhead almost jumping for joy. He had to tell Vinny about the good news, so he ran home (or to Vinny's home) to inform the guitarist about what had happened. _

_ "You __**what**__?!"_

_ "I'm in a band! Jus' like I always wanted!" The teen had a big smile on his face as he paced the small living room. Vinny watched in disbelief. Sure, he was taught by one of the best guitarists around, but he wasn't even __**close**__ to being good enough for an actual band. _

_ "Are you sure about this? 'Ya know, you can wait a little bit, maybe until you're more experienced..." He watched as Pickles grabbed his guitar and a cigarette, lighting it gracefully._

_ "No way! I've been waitin' 'fer 'dis moment my entire life, and 'yer not gonna tell me any different!" He bid the older man goodbye and left the building, happily on his way to the park to meet the mystery man who would fulfil his lifelong wish. _

xYx

"I shoulda' never met him..." He sobbed, pressing his face into his arm, which was lying on the countertop. "I woulda' turned out alright." He ordered another beer and took a big sip. "I wouldn't be livin' in 'dis mess I call a life."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: You probably noticed by now that the italic parts are Pickles' memories and the normal parts are present day. This chapter is just one huge memory, and it's kinda short, I guess. I like this chapter. It was fun to write. Fights are fun to write, sometimes, depending on the circumstances. Enjoy.**

_ "Home already? That was quick." Vinny called from the living room when he heard the door open, figuring it was Pickles. When he noticed a young-looking guy wearing a purple top hat enter the room, he jumped in fear._

_ "Relax, dood. 'Dis is Tony. He's the bassist in Snakes n' Barrels. 'Ya know, 'da band I joined." Pickles walked in the room after the man. "He's cool."_

_ "Wait... Tony? That name sounds so familiar." Vinny rubbed his slightly bearded chin in thought. He actually had a lot of history with this 'Tony' fellow. He had bought drugs off of him on multiple occasions. These drugs, however, were bad quality, and even fake. Before he knew this, Vinny shared these drugs with his band mates. They barely affected them for the most part, giving them almost no high, but the drummer, Allen Borson, spent three months in the hospital from taking the tainted drugs. _

_ "Why, Vinny? What happened?" Pickles asked. Tony perked up at the mentioning of the name. _

_ "Vinny? Vinny Donahopalis?!" He sat on the couch next to the guitarist. "How's it been? I haven't seen you in a while!" He smiled as he tipped up his hat. _

_ "Don't 'how's it been' me, you know __**exactly **__how it's been!" He stood up and shouted at the bassist. "You __**knew **__those were bad drugs, didn't you?" _

_ "Uh... I don't know what you're talkin' about, Vinny." Tony awkwardly rubbed his shoulder. All Pickles could do was watch as the fight broke out._

_ "You know __**damn well**__ what I'm talking about. You sold me fake coke."_

_ "Oh. __**That**__. Listen, buddy, I'm sorry about that..."_

_ "I'm your buddy, now? Really? Buddies don't sell their buddies fake drugs, Tony. My drummer almost __**died**__ because of you!" The bassist gulped and looked at Pickles._

_ "You didn't tell me you lived with... __**him**__, Pickles." The teen crossed his arms._

_ "You didn't tell me you had issues wit' 'im, __**Tony**__." Vinny was turning red with anger. He turned to Pickles and lightly growled. _

_ "I don't want you hanging around with this asshole. He'll probably get you killed somehow." _

_ "Are you feckin' kidding me, Vinny?! You __**know **__how much I want this. You __**know **__how much I wanna be a rock star. I'm a grown man, I don't 'hafta listen to 'yer feckin' rules. 'Yer not my 'mam! Bein' in a rock band is all about riskin' 'yer life! I'm pretty sure you would know all aboot 'dat." Pickles screamed at the older man. Vinny scoffed, crossing his arms._

_ "Really? You're a __**grown man**__? How old are you, again?" Pickles bit his lip awkwardly._

_ "I'm... I'm eighteen. 'Dat's old enough. I'm legally a man." The guitarist let out a single laugh._

_ "Ok, fine. You're a 'man'. Whatever. I just want 'ya to know that if you plan on hanging around wit' him, you can't live here. I don't wanna see his ugly face around my apartment." Vinny crossed his arms and looked away. Tony's jaw dropped as the fight got serious. _

_ "If you don't got a place to go, you can hang around my place. Snizzy's already livin' there too, but I guess you can sleep in my room. I got another futon." Pickles nodded and hung his guitar stap over his shoulder. He grabbed his suitcase and a few cigarettes. _

_ "See 'ya, Vinny. T'anks for teachin' me guitar, an' all. Oh, one more t'ing," He flipped him off before following Tony out the door. _


	4. Chapter 4

"If it wasn't 'fer Tony, I'd be dead." He mumbled, looking at the bartender. He wasn't talking to him, though. The barkeep wasn't even listening anyway, he was too busy cleaning dirty glasses. "... I shouldn't of ever met 'im."

xYx

_"You guys excited 'fer our first gig?!" Pickles exclaimed, tuning his guitar. It'd been a few months since he joined Snakes n' Barrels, and he spent those months trying to teach his band members how to play on stage. Sure, they were pretty good at playing in private, but if they ever wanted to get big, they would have to learn how to play in public with ease. _

_ "I'm kinda scared, Pickles. Uh, I don't think I can do this." Sammy explained to the singer. "God, I'm sweating already."_

_ "Pretend 'dere's no one out 'dere. 'Dat's what I do." He looked in the mirror, checking if his eyeliner looked okay. His hair had grown out a bit since he first tried the 'glam' look, making it look better than it did before. "Quit bein' a bitch, you'll be fine."_

_ "I'm ready."_

_ "Yeah, me too." _

_ Pickles smiled at the whole band and raised his fist in the air._

_ "'Den let's do 'dis!" The whole band cheered as they walked up the small stairs leading to the stage. it was only a small, cheap venue. The audience wasn't big either. It contained maybe 50 people, at the most. He looked back at his band and shrugged. "Uh, Hey guys. We're Snakes n' Barrels, uh, please be nice, 'dis is our first time on stage." Someone in the audience coughed. "Heh. Ok. This one's called __**Yesteryear**__. One, two, three, four!" Tony, Sammy, Snizzy, and Pickles started playing their instruments, getting lost in the music. Then, he started to sing. He lost the yooper accent when he sang, making his voice sound deeper and more rough, something the whole audience was suprised about. The lyrics were obviously written years ago; they made no sense (to the audience, at least), and were sang slowly at first, then he suddenly sang in a faster tune. The __**way**__ he sang, however, was beautiful. He held onto the mic stand and wouldn't let go for any reason. As he shouted into the microphone, he tapped his foot. He called it 'a home-made metronome'. He leaned forward, leaned backward, and even danced a little. He sang like no one was around, and he was doing fantastic, until he accidentally stepped on the cord, unplugging it. The audience stopped cheering and stared as Pickles pointlessly kept singing. Soon, he noticed the microphone wasn't working, and looked up at the audience. "Oh, uh... Heh. 'Sahrry guys. My bad." He awkwardly scratched his head and walked off stage. The rest of the band members stared at the small crowd in awe. There were so many types of people out there, most of them looked like they didn't like their type of music. _

_ "Wait! Pickles!" Tony called, gently placing his bass on the ground as he ran backstage. After a while, he finally found the singer sitting on an unused speaker, his face buried in his hands._

_ "I can't feckin' do 'dis." He sobbed. "They feckin' hated me. I suck." Tony sat next to him and coughed, trying to get the redhead to notice him. He looked up from his hands and gasped. "You heard all 'dat?" _

_ "Not all of it. I came just now." He said quietly. Pickles shook his head. His eyeliner made it's way down his face, and his hair was messed up to the point of looking like a bedhead. "They don't hate you, Pickles. You did __**great**__ out there. You were better than any beginner __**I've **__ever seen." Pickles sniffled and lightly smirked. _

_ "I-I was? No, 'dere's no __**way**__ I was amazing. I might've been __**good**__, but not __**amazing**__." He looked down at his cowboy boots. "Tony, what the 'feck have I gotten myself into? All I wanted was 'ta be famous, and now I wish I never got 'dat dumb idea in my head." _

_ "Pickles. Listen." He grabbed onto both of his shoulders and stared sternly into his eyes. "You fuckin' __**deserve **__this, more than anyone in the world." All Pickles could do was listen to Tony's speech. "Yes, there __**is**__ gonna be people who hate your music, but there's gonna be more that will fall in love with your music, maybe even more that will fall in love with __**you**__. These are your fans. Your __**millions of fans**__ that you will__** earn**__. You __**earn**__ your fans, they don't just flood in because you stood on stage for a few minutes. Do you understand me?" Pickles gave him a smile and a nod. _

_ "I t'ink I get it now. T'anks, Tony." The bassist smiled and gestured him to go back out with him. When he walked away, Pickles lifted one of his gloves slightly and looked at his wrist. The cut he made not even five minutes ago was still bleeding a bit, but not enough to make a mess. It just made a new expansion to his collection of the red, healed scars that already filled his wrists. _


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry for the wait, I recently watched the episode Snakes n' Barrels again and realized I put all the wrong information in this story and I got all anxious about it. I'm fine now, though. The next chapter is smut, by the way. With Tony and Pickles. That's when I'm changing the rating, too. Enjoy!**

Pickles started drinking faster, with intentions of forgetting the memories of his adolescense. Unfortunatley, he couldn't forget. He kept thinking about the days when everyone knew who Pickles, Antonio DiMarco Thunderbottom, Sammy 'Candynose' Twinskins, and Snizzy Snazz Bullets were. The days when Snakes n' Barrels were one of the best bands around. The days when his addictions to drugs and alcohol didn't matter because he was famous. The days when he self harmed on a daily basis.

xYx

_It had been at least a year since Snakes n' Barrels started gaining fans. There were thousands of them, they flooded into their concerts like they were the only band in exsistence. Of course, the band didn't mind. Tonight was one of the last concerts of their country-wide tour, taking place in New York City. Tony, Snizzy, and Sammy hated it, but Pickles loved it. He loved cold weather, unlike the others. The only good part, to the others, was how easy they could score some drugs. They've been hopped up this entire tour. Uppers, downers, coke, heroin, acid, shrooms, you name it, they've been doing it. What else would you expect from a rock band?_

_ "Does 'dis sound good?" Pickles cleared his throat before he started reciting lyrics to a song he just wrote, Kill You. "I don't want to have to kill you, 'dey'll find out an' I will feel blue..." _

_ "Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Your lyrics lately. They've been... uh... darker than usual." Tony noticed. Pickles growled before he replied. _

_ "'Yeuh?! And? 'Whas wrong wit' bein' dark?" He took a long swig from his bottle of Jack Daniel's and continued reciting the lyrics. When he was done, the guys burst out in an uncontrollable laughter._

_ "Pickles, you can't __**break someone's face**__." Snizzy informed the singer._

_ "And what the fuck is a __**stale ice cream cone**__ gonna do?" Sammy remarked, making lines or coke in the process. _

_ "Uh, Sammy. You've been snorting a __**lot**__ of cocaine. I think you should take a break for a few days." Tony told the drummer. _

_ "Dude! I'm __**fine**__! I can handle it! They don't call me 'Candynose' for nothin', 'ya know!" Sammy replied defensivley, snorting his drugs in the process. Tony sighed and looked at the rest of the band. _

_ "We better go out there and set up soon. The show starts in an hour." They all stepped out of the tour bus, blinded by the afternoon sun's rays. Soon, Pickles found himself standing on the large stage as the rest of the guys brought their instruments out from the bus. There had to be thousands seats out there, and he was told that the tickets were sold out. More than a thousand fans. Wow. This was all he wanted in life since he was a teenager, and he finally achieved his goal. He was a famous rockstar who played by day and partied by night. It was a great life, but he still hated it. It seemed like everything reminded him of his family. His bitch for a mother, his asshole for a father, and his douchebag for a brother. He hated them. He couldn't stand the thoughts he always had of them. He couldn't forget his peers, either. The peers that made fun of him constantly and told him he would probaby end up on the street someday. His family had always told him the same thing. His father told him that he belonged in a garbage can. His brother blamed him for everything, even burning down the garage, while still being showered in love by their parents. If he never done that, he would probably have a normal life. He would probably have a girlfriend, or even a wife. He probably would of never even thought of the rocker life style. Unfortunatley for him, he __**was**__ hated by everyone he met, except for his band members. If they ever found out about his childhood, they would probably make fun of him, or even kick him out for 'being a pussy'. He decided to stop thinking about the bad times and pay attention to the good ones. He was a fucking __**rock star**__ for Christ sakes! He could do whatever the fuck he wanted! _

_ "Hey, Pickles, ain't you gonna go plug in your mic?" He snapped out of it when he heard Snizzy's voice._

_ "'Yeuh, dood. T'anks 'fer remindin' me." He stepped off stage and plugged in the mic. Ever since the "incident" at their first gig, he always wrapped duct tape around the plug to stop it from unplugging. Soon, it was time to play. _

_ "We're gonna kick ass, guys!" Tony exclaimed, making four lines on the table, snorting one._

_ "Fuck yes!" Snizzy replied, snorting a line. _

_ "There's no way we __**can't**__ kick ass." Sammy snorted another. _

_ "We're Snakes n' feckin' Barrels! We're the best!" Pickles snorted the last line, blinking his eyes quickly when he was done. Doing cocaine was one of their 'backstage traditions' for this tour. It wasn't their fault, it just kept them really focused. Maybe even __**too**__ focused. They stepped out on stage, waving to the extremely large audience, causing them to scream and cheer for their beloved band. Pickles smirked at all of the love he was recieving. _

_ "We're Snakes n' Barrels. Woo!" He calmly said into the mic. "I'm Pickles, 'dat's Tony DiMarco, 'dat's Snizzy Snazz Bullets, and 'dat's Sammy 'Candynose' Twinskins. No one c'n replace us!" Of course the audience knew who the band members were, but they still cheered. "'Dis one is... um..." He was slightly confused, due to the drugs, so he looked to Tony for an answer. He simply mouthed the name of the song, and it reminded the singer. "__**Water Horsey Blues**__! One, two, three, four!" He shouted into the mic, and began to sing. He still had the same beautiful way of singing. His fans loved him so much because it was almost like his rough singing voice was making love to them. He looked like he belonged on stage, with his teased red hair and his cowboy boots. He looked like he fit in those tight leather pants perfectly. By the time he was done with that first song, his face was already covered in sweat and his eyeliner was running down his face. He didn't mind; he only stopped for maybe two minutes to catch his breath before he started the next song. _

_ They played 7 songs, taking quick breaks in between. At the end of the concert, they got a standing ovation, which suprised the band. They were only a glam metal band, after all, what was so great that they deserved a fucking standing ovation?! After they all headed backstage, there were a few young women, probably wanting an autograph. Tony wrapped his arm around one of the girls and smiled. _

_ "Can I help you fine ladies out?" The girls laughed._

_ "Yeah. Can we get an autograph?" Tony smiled again and took the marker from the girl's hand._

_ "You sure can-" He was interupted by the girls laughing again and pulling away their notebooks. _

_ "Not from __**you**__. From __**Pickles**__. He was __**amazing **__tonight!" Tony was used to stuff like this happening, he __**was **__the bassist, after all. Pickles smirked at the girls as he signed their notebooks, causing them to squeal in happiness. They walked away, giggling. Pickles looked at Tony with a frown. _

_ "Maybe you'll give someone an autograph one day, Tony." The bassist pouted, crossing his arms as his hat tipped over his face. Tony was cute when he was mad. At least Pickles thought so. "Come on, we prob'ly got some groupies in 'da bus waitin' 'fer us." _

xYx

By now, Pickles was drunk. He started drinking whiskey some time ago, and he was wobbling in the stool he was sitting in. Of course, he wasn't over his memories. He couldn't stop thinking about them. This made his intoxicated mind a lot less tolerable. "Why won't you 'ferget anyt'ing?!" He shouted, hitting himself in the head.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks for reading this far! It means a lot to me c: Anyways, this is the slashy chapter. It gets pretty detailed, just a warning. Most of it is gay but there is a **_**teeny **_**bit of hetero (with the groupies) Uh, I feel awkward writing this so, um, sorry if it's confusing or whatever. In other words, it's not the best, but it's not the worst. Enjoy.**

_ Tony and Pickles sat on the couch of the bus, each of them had their hands up the shirt of some random slut. Snizzy and Sammy had a slut of their own, too. They were used to this. It happened basically every night. This night, however, was different. Tony and Pickles gained a mutual experience. An experience they never even __**thought**__ of knowing._

_ "You know what'd be __**really**__ hot?" The slut asked quietly into Pickles ear as they made out. _

_ "I 'dunno, what?" He looked at the girl. She was a blonde with light brown eyes and freckles splattered all over her face. She looked at Tony's girl, a brunette, with a smile before she also looked over to Pickles._

_ "If you and Tony did stuff." She started kissing his neck, but he gently pushed her off. _

_ "No. No, no, no. We're jus' band mates. 'Dat's it." Tony looked over when he heard his name. _

_ "She wants us to __**what**__?" _

_ Fuck, 're somet'in. I ain't doin' it." The blonde, who was still sitting on Pickles' lap, stopped him. _

_ "I never said I wanted you to fuck. I just said that you should, like, kiss, or something. It'd be real hot." She smiled, looking at both of the guys and her friend. _

_ "Whoa, if you guys are gonna start shovin' your tongues down each other's throats, I'm leavin'. C'mon, Snizz. Let's bail." Sammy and Snizzy left, their arms still wrapped around their sluts. Tony and Pickles stared at each other for a moment, not knowing what to do. _

_ "Do... Do you __**want **__to? I mean," Tony started, but never finished. _

_ "I 'dunno. Do __**you**__ want to?" They had a little argument for about two minutes before Tony stopped it._

_ "Who cares? It's just a kiss, right? What's so bad about a kiss?" The girls quietly cheered as they all made their way to the small, full-sized bed. Pickles sat up against the wall and stared blankly at Tony as he straddled him. The girls were sitting on the other side of the bed, watching closley. The pair looked into each other's eyes awkwardly for a moment before they actually started pressing their lips together. Pickles stroked Tony's cheek, finding that the bassist was a __**great**__ kisser. Tony found the same thing about the singer, and rubbed his chest. The girls were getting turned on by the sight, and started to rub between their legs through their pants. Pickles looked over and smirked at the blonde and brunette. _

_ "Oh, you like 'dis?" The girls nodded. "How aboot 'dis?" He pulled Tony closer and wriggled his tongue in the bassist's mouth. Tony was disoriented, but suprisingly, he liked the feeling of another man inside him, even if it was just his tongue. The girls responded with a moan, and slowly took each other's shirts off. Pickles glanced over at the sluts and smiled while he kissed his friend. _

_ "What the fuck, Pickles, I thought we were only gonna kiss. How far are you gonna take this?!" Tony quietly asked the singer._

_ "As far as it takes." _

_ "For what?"_

_ "For 'dem to eit'er join us or help each o'der finish. I really wanna watch 'dat, Tony." He replied enthusiastically. They looked towards the girls, who were in the process of taking their pants off. Tony nodded, throwing his hat to the side and pulling his sleevless jacket off, still kissing Pickles, who eventually pulled his shirt off. Tony quickly found himself on top of the singer, kissing him and glancing at the girls every now and then. The sluts were playing with themselves as they watched the men make out. Pickles looked at them and smirked, slowly rubbing his hand down the bassist's stomach and eventually to his crotch. He felt Tony's slowly growing bulge through his pants, and quietly asked him to do the same to him. Soon, they were feeling each other up, and so were the girls. They were quietly moaning as they helped each other masturbate. Without any warning, Pickles started to unbutton Tony's pants._

_ "W-What are you doing? Pickles, you're not gonna..." _

_ "'Yeuh, I'm gonna." He smiled mischeviously at the bassist as he pulled his pants down far enough to expose his dick. "If 'ya don't like it, jus' pretend, okay?" He gently grabbed onto it and started to slowly jerk it, resulting in soft sighs from Tony. The girls quietly gasped; they were getting closer to their orgasms. Tony started to unbutton the singer's pants, and slowly wrapped his fingers around the other man's cock. He smiled and kissed the singer, soon finding themselves rubbing each other off in perfect rhythm. The girls started moaning louder as they watched the erotic sight. The men looked at them, noticing that they were helping each other play with themselves. They started jerking each other off faster, trying to get them to orgasm at the same time. They were all equally aroused, moaning loudly and breathing heavily. Tony stared into the singer's beautiful green eyes as he combed his fingers through his teased red hair. He looked over to the girls; the blonde was biting her lip and quietly moaning as the brunette fingered her, and the brunette's eyes were shut tightly as she sighed in delight to the blonde, who was doing the same. Pickles pushed Tony's cheek so he was looking straight at him. He smirked, then pulled him into a kiss. The feeling of their wet tongues quickly wriggling against each other was enough to make them both cum, screaming in ectasy as their warm, sticky liquids squirted on each other's bare chests and stomachs. They heard loud moans coming from the girls; they came at the same time as they did. Tony could barely balance himself, he was so shaky. He fell on top of Pickles, causing each other's cum to mix together on their chests. They all sat up after a few minutes of trembling and heavy breathing. The blonde crawled over to Pickles and sat on his lap. _

_ "I told you it'd be hot." She purred in his ear. He looked up to her and nodded, still shaking. _

_ "Yeuh... I guess you were right. 'Dat was... 'Dat was somet'in, wasn' it?" _

xYx

He had his head resting on his arms on the counter, but he quickly shot up when he remembered that first sexual experience he had with his bandmate. "Oh no! 'Dat really happened?! I t'ought 'dat was a dream!" He almost shouted, not caring who heard him. If anyone did, they'd probably think he was crazy. The bartender was currently packing up for the night (more like morning). He knew he would have to leave the bar soon. Unfortunatly for him, memories kept flooding back to him, and they seemed like they would never stop.


End file.
